Control
by Kwinks
Summary: "Everything is different on top. It gives a new perspective. A new dynamic. It gives her all the power."


**A/N: I don't even know what the hell this is. I just wrote it on a whim. **

**Control**

Clare has never been on top before. But she's really glad she allowed Eli to convince her to try something new.

Everything is different on top. It gives a new perspective. A new _dynamic_. It gives her all the power.

And she never thought she'd love it so much.

There's something alluring about a submissive Eli. Something about being in control over his pleasure, over what sensations he feels, over what sounds he makes, over how much of her body she lets him see, and over how much of her he gets to taste at a time.

"_Clare…let's try something different tonight, okay?" A whisper. Soft, persuasive hands rubbing from the tops of her thighs down to her knee. A warm body pressing against her back. _

"_What are we trying exactly?"_

_His lips grin against her neck._

No wonder Eli enjoys being on top all the time. This kind of power is good for the ego. The ability to please the one you love in the most base, primal way. The fact that they trust you enough to give you control, to let you see them at their most vulnerable.

Clare feels a smirk pull at one corner of her lips.

_Clothes are on the floor. Kisses are on her lips. Hands are between each other's legs. _

_Her weight is on his chest, and she feels herself leaning forward as he slowly lowers himself back onto the bed._

_This throws her off. She's never been above him. She's never been looking down at him. When they have sex, she is always underneath, looking up. Sheltered by his hovering body. Taken care of._

_Even when vertical, she is always looking up at him._

"_Sex is about trust, Clare."_

_Clare moans. His hand feels so good. And now what that finger is doing - oh! A hot flash of searing pleasure ripples down her spine and she grips what's in her hand tighter, drawing a groan from him in response. _

"_You trust me."_

_It's not a question. _

She moves over him slowly, relishing his whimpers, taking pride in his shudders, trying to make it last as long as possible.

She wants to feel him grip her waist like that forever.

"_I trust you, too."_

_She nods distractedly, too focused on the feeling of his forefinger, which is drawing circles around her left nipple._

"_You always prove to me how much you trust me. You always let me see you at your most vulnerable."_

_She sighs shakily when his mouth wraps around the hard point of her breast, his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin, and she watches as he closes his eyes, his hand on her lower back to hold her in place so he can suck on her tit. She can feel the breath from his nose fanning out over the top of her breast and the hand on her back slipping down lower, the fingers splaying out over the place right between dip of her back and the full, soft raise of her rear. _

"_I want to show you how much I trust __**you**__ now, okay?" And there's so much sweetness to his words, and there's such a sincerity in the way he says them, so she just nods, as his hand finally covers the entire right cheek of her ass, rubbing his palm over the plump skin in circles that make her wetter than before. _

Eli groans and Clare stops riding him for a moment to admire the way his eyelashes flutter, the way his lips part, the way his hair looks in disarray on his forehead. And she wonders if this is what it's like for him when he looks at her underneath him. If he feels this rush of affection. If she is now experiencing the same love for him he does for her when he is in her position. If he is struck with this same powerful desire. And she realizes that being on top doesn't mean necessarily being in control. Not really. Because she has no control when she sees him like this.

"Clare, please." His hand is hot and rough against her abdomen, her stomach, her breast, as it slides up her torso slyly. His eyes are still closed. He's waiting for her to start again.

It's her move.

One small plea. He's begging, and yet it's she who feels compelled to obey.

_His hands are on her waist, and she's straddling him, and he looks her in the eyes._

"_You can always change your mind."_

_She shakes her head. Curiosity gets the better of her and she pushes his hands away, settling herself down on top of him, locking their bodies together._

_He swallows hard as she comes down on him, and that's when she feels her first twinge of control. _

Clare obliges him, and his head goes back, his neck exposed, and Clare takes the bait, kissing and sucking on his throat. His face is contorted in what looks like pain, but she knows it's pleasure. He feels so good, he hurts. She knows because that's how he makes her feel.

She drags her nails down his chest, and he arches his hips to aid in their dance. He shivers as pale pink scratches are indented in his skin. Now, he _hurts_ so bad, he feels _good_.

His hands go back to their default location - her ass, squeezing and kneading. It's his favorite place to hold her because her butt is _so fucking soft _and he can pull her lower body even closer, help satiate the urge to connect, skin to skin.

"Clare…"

And she knows he's close.

She is too.

_She leans herself down and places her head against his chest, her cheek against his skin, her ear over the place above his heart. She listens to its beat, irregular now, fast, hard. Like the banging of a drum or the stomping of a giant. Or maybe the wings of a bird, flap-flapping violently against the bars of a cage, desperate to be free. _

She leans down and listens to his heart again. It wants to be free. The pumping gets faster, faster. Eli's breathing gets harder and more shallow and more breathy, and he pulls her close, his fingers scrabbling across her back like he's trying to gain purchase on her, like he's afraid to let her go, like he feels like he's flying away or like he just can't get enough of her.

It's like his heart practically bursts out of his chest when he comes. Like an explosion. Like an escape.

She can hear him moaning and panting in her ear, and this is how he finds his freedom, his escape.

He finds it under her control.


End file.
